


Anders in Brontë

by thornclaw



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Just some good old fashioned support, i just think they're neat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-01-22 10:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornclaw/pseuds/thornclaw
Summary: I'm going to do a series of short pieces based on a song from 'Jane Eyre,' a chapter for each of the twelve stanzas. The stanza will be at the end of each part. Thanks for reading!
Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First kiss, baby!

The kiss was ardently desperate, Anders’ hands on Hawke’s jaw as he closed the distance between them. There was no pretense of hesitation or gentleness, his body taut as he pressed her against the wall. His lips parted and Hawke eagerly followed suit, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Anders’ grip tightened as he let out a soft moan, one hand sliding down to Hawke’s waist, the other cupping her cheek. Their bodies were flush, the air growing hot around them.

Hawke felt her brain numb as her body took over, the kiss making everything in her feel molten. It felt intrinsic, a need so base that she had no idea how she had survived this long without it. Every nerve flared as she felt his lips move toward her jaw, Anders’ movements still frantic but intentional. He kissed the connection between neck and jaw, and Hawke gasped, fingers entangled in his hair. His breath seemed to scald her skin as his voice hummed in her ear.

“I love you.”

His voice flowed, moving through her as Anders’ hands met at her jaw once more, gentler now. She felt his declaration pool in her chest, an oasis in the heat of passion. The kiss had seemed to drain her body of any sense, but his words refilled her; they streamed through her and gave each movement a new meaning, a purpose she felt they must not have had before.

“I love you too.”

"_The truest love that ever heart _

_Felt at its kindled core _

_Did through each vein, in quickened start, _

_The tide of being pour_."


	2. Chapter 2

Anders glanced down into the foyer of the mansion, his fingers sparking as he nervously shook his hands; Hawke had been summoned by Knight-Commander Meredith at dawn—now that she was Champion even Meredith was vying for her attention. Hawke had taken Varric, Isabela, and Merrill with her and left as the sky lightened; now that sunset neared Anders’ mind was spinning itself into madness, reliving their goodbye.

Hawke had slid her shield across her back as she left that morning, waving away his nervousness. “I’ll be fine. Meredith wouldn’t dare kill me now, I’m the Champion! But you can’t go with me.” She had said this with finality, sliding her sword into its sheath.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not letting you go without me!” He had protested hotly.

She had looked at him seriously then, her face grim. “You know she’s been making more mages Tranquil. I won’t give her any reason or opportunity to come near you.” A kiss on the cheek and she was gone.

Anders cursed at the memory, at himself for giving in. Meredith knew Hawke protected apostates—a serious offense at the best of times, let alone in Kirkwall lately—and had supported the crowning of a new viscount. Any chance to get rid of a political enemy would be a blessing.

A whine from the staircase made Anders’ head snap up, instinctively reaching for his absent staff before he realized it was the Mabari, his head resting on his paws as he moped—he had been left behind too, though Anders suspected it had been less for the hound’s benefit and more for his own, a sort of insurance policy.

“Somehow you and I are in the same boat. But don’t take that as a compliment.” Anders hunched over the railing overhanging the main level of the mansion. “Left with a dog! Any other time I might be insulted.” As he studied his hands the front door creaked; the involuntary flood of apprehension made his jaw clench.

As he leaned dangerously far over the rail his heart stopped; Varric stumbled in, blood splattered across his face. Anders mind slowed and he felt the chilled dizziness of Justice beginning to take hold.

“Varric, where’s Hawke?” His voice was soft but strong, his terror giving way to cold clarity. The dwarf squinted up at him and then laughed. “Blondie, she’s just saying goodnight to Merrill, lighten up! I came in to collect the coin you owe me—I figured the blood might intimidate you into finally settling your debts.”

Anders groaned exasperatedly, trying to hide the bright flare of relief that raged through him. “Maker, I could kill you myself! Why’d you come limping on like you were on your last legs?” He stepped past the Mabari, now ecstatic and barking up a storm, and walked quickly down the stairs. Varric snorted and pointed Bianca threateningly at the door.

“Tripped over the entryway and turned an ankle. For the home of nobility that loose board is a real reputation killer.” He fired an arrow into the board, narrowly missing Hawke’s foot as she stepped inside.

Hawke’s eyebrows raised and she blinked. “When you said the best heroes die in the end I didn’t think that meant you’d finish the job, Varric.” She grinned and plucked the arrow out of the floor, tossing it aside.

Anders let out a breathy laugh and crossed the room, ignoring the gore crusting on Hawke’s armor as he wrapped his arms around her. “Tranquil or not I’m coming with you next time, you and Varric are too dangerous a combination, and I don't just mean for blood mages and templars.”

Hawke laughed brightly and hugged him back. “It’s probably for the best, Varric nearly got impaled and we had no healer. That’ll teach him to stay on his toes.” She kissed Anders gently and pulled her shield off her back, leaning it against the wall. “Don’t worry, love. There’s nothing I won’t face beside you.”

_"Her coming was my hope each day,_

_Her parting was my pain;_

_The chance that did her steps delay, _

_Was ice in every vein."_


	3. Chapter 3

Anders had fallen asleep at his desk again, lanky arms flung across the scattered papers of his manifesto. Hawke sighs, lifting him in her arms—thank the Maker he weighs less than the Mabari—and placed him on the bed. She was unbuttoning his coat when his eyes fluttered open.

“Sorry love,” he murmured sleepily, “I meant to stop before midnight this time.”

“I know your game at this point, you just love when I pick you up.” Hawke grinned cheekily, brushing the tangled hair from his forehead.  
Anders caught her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Looks like I’ll have to come up with something new.” He sat up and shrugged off the now open coat, leaning down to unlace his boots. “How was your visit with Varric?”

Hawke flopped dramatically on the bed, groaning. “Well, I lost soundly to him in Wicked Grace so I owe him the mansion. So I guess I have to break that to Bodahn and Sandal.” She suddenly bolted upright, gasping. “But guess what?”

“What?”

“Varric says he saw a cat in the alley! Tomorrow we can head over and put out some milk.” Hawke smiled as she watched his face brighten, exhaustion and elation mixed in his eyes. “But for now you should sleep. Revolutions are not won by the tired, love.”

Anders’ fingers stilled on his laces and he looked at her searchingly. “Not to beat a dead horse, but I will it say once more—you are not beholden to this cause or to me. I will bear you no ill will if you leave.” His face was arranged carefully neutral, but his eyes always betrayed how he felt.

Hawke placed her hand on his gaunt cheek, feeling the prickle of his stubble—he’d forgotten to shave again. “I’d fight Andraste herself for this—and for you. Now go to sleep.”

Anders leaned in and kissed her gently, the warm fullness of his lips lingering on hers as he lay back, sighing. Hawke settled against his back, fighting her own tiredness as she waited to make sure he fell asleep again.

“_My love has sworn, with sealing kiss _

_W_ _ith me to live—to die; _

_I have at last my nameless bliss. _

_As I love—loved am I!_”


End file.
